


The Way It Is

by thegizka



Category: Bleach
Genre: Drinking to Cope, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegizka/pseuds/thegizka
Summary: Maybe Matsumoto isn't cut out to be a fukutaichou, but Toshiro wouldn't know how to be a shinigami without her.Written for Writer's Month Day 1:  Annoyance.Note:  I do not own any aspects of Bleach.





	The Way It Is

Toshiro didn’t like walking the Seireitei streets so late at night. Dinnertime was long past, and the reputable establishments had closed hours ago. Zealous drinking and rowdy shenanigans marked this late hour. He hated having to move amongst the participants. His mere presence could result in compromising rumors, and he had worked hard to maintain his standards and reputation. He would not let his subordinates destroy his hard work.

He found her in a sake bar well into her third or fourth bottle. She usually didn’t this much, but today was a notable date for her. Not that unhappy memories were an excuse for such excess.

“Taichoouu,” she sang when he approached, draping herself upon him in an overly-affectionate hug. He wrestled her off, but she was too inebriated to stand on her own and stumbled against the table. At least she had remembered to address him by his title.

“Matsumoto,” he greeted stiffly, unable to prevent a frown from pulling at his lips. “Your rank demands better from you. I’m disappointed by your behavior.”

“Taichou, don’t say that,” she pouted, reaching for another bottle. He pushed it beyond her reach.

“Enough. I need you alert for tomorrow morning’s squad briefing.”

“Just a little more,” she pleaded. “It’s too early to go home. Midnight karaoke hasn’t even started!”

He debated telling her it was well past midnight and there was (thankfully) no karaoke machine in this establishment, but reasoning with her in her current state was nearly impossible. Reasoning with Matsumoto normally could be a challenge.

“Pay your bill,” he instructed. “It’s time for you to go home.”

“It’s rude for a guy to make the lady pay,” she hummed, batting her eyelids. She was too uncoordinated for the attempt to be anything close to flirtatious. Toshiro’s frown deepened.

“This has nothing to do with me. Pay for your own poor choices.”

“You’re no fun, Taichou,” she grumbled as she rooted around in her shihakusho for her money. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.”

He clenched his jaw against a retort. He didn’t have the time or patience to renew this argument with her. He just wanted to get her out of here before she could do anything particularly compromising.

Twenty minutes later, they finally left the sake bar, Toshiro dragging a stumbling Matsumoto behind him. She babbled incessantly as they made their way towards the Squad Four compound. He wished she would sober up so the journey wouldn’t be such a struggle. He was used to working late, but they were pushing his habitual bedtime, and he had plans to wake up early and go over the notes for the squad briefing again. Based on his fukutaichou’s current state, he would need to handle both of their portions of the meeting.

“Matsumoto,” he said sharply, cutting through her account of a conversation she’d had with Nano about getting a haircut, “I really don’t care what you do with your free time, but allowing it to infringe on your job is unacceptable.”

“It’s after hours, Taichou. I don’t have to think about work,” she moaned.

“We don’t have the luxury of not thinking about our work when we’re off-duty. What if a Menos Grande appeared right now? Or more ryoka invaded? Would you be lucid enough to fight without putting yourself and others at risk?”

“You need to lighten up,” she sighed, draping herself across him again. “Not every day is going to end in crisis.”

He tried to shrug her off. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, and it was annoying. Almost as annoying as the piles of paperwork she’d leave on her desk and never finish on time. Inevitably he’d have to pick up her slack.

“Matsumoto please,” he grumbled, trying to support her and push open the entryway to the squad barracks at the same time.

“Okay,” she giggled, attempting to stand up straight and barely succeeding. She stumbled through the door as he held it for her. Her giggles gradually subsided as they walked down the hallway, and he allowed her to lean on him. She had the sensibility to remain quiet until they turned the corner to her chambers.

“Do you have your key?” he asked.

“Why bother with a key when I keep it unlocked?” She swung open her door proudly.

“That’s against regulation,” Toshiro frowned as they entered. Her small sitting room was messy, clothes and papers strewn across every surface. He cringed at the lack of organization and hoped she at least had the sense to keep any sensitive documents safely tucked into their squad office.

“Ah Taichou, you’re so cute when you’re annoyed.” She attempted to poke his cheek but misjudged the movement of her finger and nearly took out his eye. He swatted her away.

“You know what else is against regulation?” she hiccupped as they pushed through to her bedroom. “Having a superior officer in my bedroom!”

He dumped her onto her bed with a scowl.

“I wouldn’t be here if you took your responsibilities seriously. Now go to bed. I’m not letting you use this as an excuse to sleep in tomorrow.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for lectures?” she grumbled, snuggling into her blankets. He sighed. Toshiro might be decades younger, but he often felt like the one needing to babysit his fukutaichou.

“Taichou,” Matsumoto called as he turned to go. Her voice was small, and she looked vulnerable curled up in her blankets. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He heard the unspoken additions in her voice.  _ Not like Shiba-taichou who disappeared nearly twenty years ago. Not like Gin who had defected so recently to follow Aizen. _ Sometimes he wondered if there was anyone besides him who hadn’t walked out on her in some way.

“No Matsumoto,” he promised. “I’m just going to grab some aspirin. You’ll need it when you wake up.”

He had brought her home like this too many times. He shouldn’t know exactly where to find her aspirin, or which cupboard she kept her glasses in, or the direction to turn the faucet to make the water run cold. Having Matsumoto as his fukutaichou could be frustrating, especially when he kept finding himself in situations like this. But she had been one of his first friends among the shinigami, and in her own way, she seemed to be looking out for him like a strange big sister. He wasn’t sure what his life would look like without her. He wasn’t sure what more he could do to help her besides staying by her side. No, he didn’t plan on going anywhere unless she was coming with him.

When he returned to her bedroom, she was already deep in sleep, face pressed into her pillow, deep breaths whispering against the fabric of her pillowcase. He quietly placed the water and aspirin on her bedside table and slipped out of her rooms. With a sigh, he headed towards his own chambers and much-desired sleep, rearranging the morning’s schedule in his mind so he would have time to make sure Matsumoto got a hearty breakfast. He couldn’t have his fukutaichou struggling through a hangover during their squad briefing, after all.


End file.
